Moments Left Out
by My-name-is-foxglove
Summary: Heat slaps itself across her cheeks, but she keeps her gaze steady. He always does this, tries to divert attention from what's actually important. / series of shikatema one-shots and drabbles inspired by ch 700. Previously "Filling in the Gaps"
1. Trauma

**Title:** Trauma

**Author's note: **Okay, I know I said I'd do some more shikatema 50 sentences, but like THEY ARE NOW _CANON,_ SOMEONE HOLD ME. So rather than sentences, my brain keeps churning out fanfic because CANONCANONCANON. So this'll be a...just a random series of shikatema one-shots/drabbles, sometimes connected, sometimes not, focusing on the time between the 4th Shinobi World War and their marriage. See if you like :D

**Note:** Set before, or right in the beginning of the Last. Meteors are still a rare, new thing at this point.

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><p>The sun beats down on him as he moves across the desert and all Shikamaru knows is that he's <em>burning<em>.

Every time he manages to drag in another ragged breath, his lungs ache in searing protest at too much dust, not enough air. Something near the back of his throat tingles and pulses in red-hot warning of things called 'boundaries' and 'reason' and how he's pushed past them both. Lactic acid stings and swirls inside his limbs, screaming along with the rest of his body for a break from all the _running_.

(useless running, it's not like he can do something if he gets there a little faster, he wasn't there when it _mattered_)

There's a burning in the back of his eyes, too_. _Salty heat. He tries not to think about that. He tries not to think _period_, tries to just run no matter how much it hurts. To think is to stop is to give up is to _not again not again not again._

He's reaching the outskirts of Suna now, can see the ugly, dark gashes in the buildings. Some have gotten away with only a few cracks while others have split in two at the force. Shoddy architecture, a voice faintly says in his head but what does he care?

Because there, he sees it: the sickening vast crater, a bowl-shaped wound in the earth, right near the edge of the city. Shinobi are –still? It's been hours– swarming around it trying to…to what? What can you salvage from _that_?

Not much, says the voice of bitter experience.

And his running slows to a walk as he fights against a voice of painful calm inside his mind that's telling him to _stop_. Stop and prepare yourself, you fool, stop and brace yourself because what if- stop, stop, _stop_ and accept the probabilities.

Shikamaru reaches the crater. His eyes go straight to the middle of it, pushing past the ninja digging around and locking on the broken shards of red roof tiles and crumbly white bricks and _he thinks he's going to be sick._

"Space rocks." Someone spits in disgust. That familiar curt, annoyed tone. Just a few feet ahead. "Of course it hit the only museum we have."

And Shikamaru snaps his head up.

For a moment where air seems to have turned into sand and he doesn't even know his own name because he had tried not to think but he _had_, of course he had, he had considered all the possibilities and survival rates and how life seemed to hate him, of _course_ he had thought– he had _thought_, and so he stares because _here she is._

Temari stands at the craters edge, not five feet away, talking to another Suna shinobi. She's covered with a fine coat of dust that almost makes her clothes match the colour of her hair. Her uniform look ragged, torn in some places. Sweat spots, she obviously hasn't changed. She's cradling her elbow at an awkward angle- sprain? There's dried blood on her forehead.

And suddenly her eyes glance his way and meet his. They light up at the sight of him. Her mouth curves into a smile.

He thought he'd never see that smile again.

"Oi, Shikamaru!" She calls out in boisterous greeting after dismissing the ninja. "Great timing."

He walks towards her slowly, like a dead man come to life, barely listening as she continues talking. She's alive.

She's alive.

"-guess you were already on your way here, huh? We could really use your kagemane with the clean-up, it's too dangerous for the-" He's close enough for her to see his expression now and she cuts herself off, frowning. "You look like death."

He keeps his eyes on her face, tracing all her facial features. Paranoia, superstition, just plain fear, whatever you liked to call it- it runs thick in his veins. He feels like if he loses sight of so much as a freckle, she could disappear right in front of his eyes.

"Shikamaru?" She takes a step towards him, so close he can smell the smoke in her hair. "You okay? Did something happ-"

He takes another step forward, and before he can think it or plan it or second-guess his instincts, he's already pulled her into a sudden, desperate hug.

"O-oi?" Temari stutters as his arms tighten around her, although she doesn't resist the embrace. "Shikamaru?"

He tries to speak through all the stupid emotions clogging up his traitorous throat. Tries to tell her how he likes her eyes and her smile and the way she charges through life, how he still has so many things he wants to talk to her about even though he doesn't _like_ talking to people, how he'd been taking his sweet time to get to Suna until he saw that meteor shoot across the sky and it felt like_ the world was cracking under his feet._

But in the end, all that comes out is a choked whimper, shaky and wet. He sounds like he's crying.

Maybe because he is.

"Oh." Temari lowly says. One of her hands slowly settles around his torso, while the other hesitantly pats his back. "…Guess you were worried, huh? My bad."

Shikamaru lets out something between a scoff and a sob, and buries his face into her neck, tightens his grip.

He holds her until his hands stop shaking.


	2. Of Schedules and Promises

**Title**: Of Schedules and Promises

**Author's note:** And rinnnngs.

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><p>"Here is fine."<p>

Temari doesn't know why she's gotten into the habit of saying that every time he sees her off. It's not like he's going to follow her into the desert if she says otherwise (she wouldn't mind if he did).

"Alright." Shikamaru nods at her. "I'll see you in three months?"

"Yeah. See you." Temari turns around to go, and-

"Forgetting something?"

She looks back at him, surprised. Shikamaru gestures towards her neck with a lazy tilt of his chin.

Immediately, Temari's hand shoots up as if to cover the incriminating silver chain and ring, even though she knows it's well hidden under the layers of her kimono. Her palm presses the shape of it -new and unfamiliar, but oddly comforting- against her skin.

"Forgetting?" She echoes, despite knowing perfectly well what he means. Heat is already creeping up her face at the reminder of last night, her sleepily mumbled agreement to his childish request.

"You promised." Shikamaru simply says. His own chain and ring hang plainly on his neck. Unlike her, he doesn't care if people think he's sentimental. On the contrary, she irritably notices, he's _proud_ of being mushy.

_(or he's proud he's gonna marry her, but both things turn her face red)_

"I- you know perfectly well I'm wearing it." She blusters. "I don't see the need to take it out and show you."

Shikamaru says nothing. He simply waits, hands in his pockets, shoulders laid back. _You might have a schedule, _his unashamed eyes tell her, _but I can wait here all day._

Silently cursing him, herself and the ridiculous phenomenon called affection, Temari huffs, "_Fine_." Her hand plunges below her neckline and a handful of silver jerks out of her collar.

"There." She says through scarlet cheeks. The ring that brands her as a Nara-to-be dangles from her fingers for him to see. "Happy?"

Shikamaru nods, and there is already that ridiculous lop-sided smile pulling at his mouth. Temari's eyes shy away from it, her heart thudding as she hastily hides the necklace again.

She loves that smile of his more than she will ever admit. It makes her do irrational things. It's what seduced her into kissing him for the first time, what convinced her that one night together couldn't hurt, what made her say yes to yesterday's proposal and agree to his childish promise, what-

-what's currently making her _run behind schedule_.

"Alright, see you." Temari swiftly turns around to make her way back to Suna. She already went home late last time (more her fault than his, she just had to give him one goodbye kiss that turned into _two_ that turned into _three…_) and she really doesn't want to face the humiliation of doing it again.

"Temari?" His voice stops her in her tracks again.

"_What_?" She snaps, turning around, cheeks still crimson because her bark is far worse than her bite.

Shikamaru gives her his brightest, broadest grin. It holds her in place more effectively than his kagemane ever could. She can't even try to look away. Can't so much as blink. Can barely even breathe.

"I love you." He tells her, without the slightest hint of shame.

For a moment, Temari can do nothing but stare at him. A part of her is outraged. He's so obviously planned this. He's actively trying to make her late for her duties, all for the sake of hormones and whimsy and this stupid rosy hue the world has taken after last night. He must know she'd never let him get away with this at any other time.

Shikamaru doesn't even flinch when his future wife marches over and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. He just keeps smirking down at her, dark eyes shining with silent delight.

He knows he's won.

"I hate you sometimes." Temari tells him, though her traitorous mouth is already curving.

"_Sure_ you do," Shikamaru murmurs, and leans down to brush her lips with his.

(She's going to be so very, very late.)


	3. Intermission-You Win Some, You Lose Some

**You Win Some, You Lose Some **

**(intermission)**

**Author's note:** Tehnically this is set _before_ ch 699, but I couldn't help but feel it belongs with this set of feelings, so here it is. Set sometime between part 1 and 2. Closer to part 1 than it is 2.

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><p>Sometimes, Temari has incredibly violent urges towards the Nara heir.<p>

"You played pretty well for your first game." He says, with his own particular dry type of kindness. Long, graceful fingers grasp piece after piece as he resets the shougi board, slowly erasing all traces of her humiliating defeat.

Temari glowers at him. How, exactly, is she supposed to resent him when he doesn't even act like he's won? It's this side of the boy that makes her want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, yank him forward and…and…

Do _something_ to wipe that calm look off his face.

"You really hate losing, huh?" He cracks an amused smile at her scowl.

"Only people like you wouldn't." Temari mutters, choosing to preoccupy her impulsive hands with helping him reset the board.

"People like me." He echoes in his slow, raspy drawl. He raises an eyebrow in silent question.

"Lazy asses." She specifies with a dismissive air, as if the lazy ass in front of her didn't just break her break her strategy into tiny, bite-size pieces.

"…I don't mind losing to allies." He easily corrects her, reaching over the board to return one of her pawns.

Temari's hand falters and a Lance slips from between her fingers, hitting the board with a quiet clatter. Shikamaru stills, looking up at her.

_She_ knows they're allies, bound by blood as well as paper. The rest of Suna can think she's just going along with Gaara's sentimentality, but Konoha is the land that gave her back her brother's sanity among…among other things. She'd rather stab herself in the gut than betray them.

But _him_… well, she still hasn't forgotten his acidic comment about traitors, back during their reintroduction. Up to this moment, she's assumed that Konoha ninja were just too emotionally driven to fully understand a soldier's mentality.

…Allies, huh?

She's aware of Shikamaru's eyes on her, cautiously watching her the way he would one of his clan's deer. There's no need for him to be so delicate with her. She's not gonna run away. And maybe it's to prove it that she raises her head to meet his gaze head on.

Huh. She used to think his eyes were black. Now, she sees they're a just a very dark shade of brown. It's a peculiar hue that sends this…_odd_ warmth flowing through her, from the back of her prickling neck to the tips of her suddenly curling toes.

"You should get used to that too." Shikamaru quietly advises, and blinks slowly, like a cat basking in the sun. "Losing to your allies, I mean."

She doesn't miss his offered olive branch. It almost makes her laugh. For a genius, he really is kind of stupid.

Allies.

Temari snaps her face down to the shougi board to hide the irrationally pleased flush creeping up her neck, her hands fumbling for pieces.

He watches her silently.

"Just you wait…" Temari grumbles, when she dares look back up. "Just you wait and see who loses to their ally. I demand a rematch."

The slow, lazy curve of Shikamaru's smile reminds her just how much she feels like she's losing to him, every single moment they're together.


	4. Beyond Fear

**Beyond Fear**

**Author's note:** Sorry this is a little more verbose than usual. But hey, shikatema as parents, so here's hoping you'll forgive me.

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><p>The first thing Temari registered was the dark.<p>

Night, she thought, and moved her gaze to the ceiling. Wooden beams. Home. Their bedroom.

And there was Shikamaru, of course, with his arms snaked around her, snoring into her neck. Temari felt her mouth curve into a smile. He was always such a clingy sleeper.

At this point, part of the kunoichi wanted to just go back to sleep, but she knew _something_ had woken her. There was an uncomfortable prickling at the back of her neck insisting she had to get up.

Luckily, she'd long learned how to distinguish between her martial and maternal instincts.

Sighing to herself, she carefully slipped out of Shikamaru's grip –not an easy feat– and spared her snoring husband an exasperated but fond look before heading out the bedroom and into the hallway.

_(Anyone else would've thought to turn on the lights.)_

When Temari swung open Shikadai's door, she wasn't in the least surprised to find his room completely unlit.

"Shikadai, you awake?" She patiently called into the darkness, already knowing the answer.

It was an odd habit of Nara males to extinguish all sources of light whenever they felt vulnerable- something about feeling safer in the shadows. Her son's digital alarm clock had definitely been plugged in when she told him goodnight; now, it lay dull and quiet in a corner.

"Yeah." Her little boy sat up in the dark, his tiny voice carrying shakily across the room.

Something in Temari's chest contracted painfully at her son's attempted nonchalance. A few years ago, Shikadai would have thrown himself at her bawling, rather than stay in place. He'd come to that ridiculous age where boys kept trying to act tough and prove themselves men.

Mothers really didn't get enough credit for the heartache of trying to keep it together when watching their child on the brink of falling apart.

Temari met her baby's eyes through the shadows and tilted her head, keeping her voice light and casual. "Creepy dream?"

Shikadai's tiny ponytail bobbed up and down as he nodded.

"I see." Temari paused, as if considering options. "Want a hug?"

"…Okay." Shikadai paused and then added. "If you have to."

She almost snorted, but thought better of it. Shikadai really was his father's son, fragile male ego and all. She walked through the darkness towards her child, her steps confident where others would stumble in blindness. Temari's night vision had drastically improved after getting married.

_(She'd known from early on that Shikamaru relaxed the most in the dark, and went out of her way to keep the house dim on those nerve-wracking days after bad missions. He told her she didn't have to, but Temari just grinned and said it was stealth training for her as well._

_The truth was that, somewhere along the line, she'd begun to feel safer in the dark too. _

_It was a part of him, after all.)_

"Guess you have more Suna in you than I thought." Temari murmured now, sitting down on her son's bed. Shikadai had already clambered out from underneath his duvet, and made no sound of protest when she gathered him into her lap.

"Whaddya mean?" Her son asked, burrowing his face into his mother's dress. His tense little shoulders were already starting to relax.

"My side of the family's never been good with sleeping." Temari wryly said, carefully listening as her child's breathing smoothed and evened out. She started patting his back out of motherly habit. "I was hoping you'd take after your dad in that aspect…"

"I already take after him enough." Shikadai grumbled. His voice came out muffled against her kimono. But it sounded normal now. Good. "All the adults call me 'Shikamaru's kid', like I don't even have a name."

"You'll make one for yourself, soon enough." Temari chuckled. "If you train a little harder and do well on your exams…"

"_Exams_?" The child lifted his head to give his mother a look of unparalleled disgust. "Mom, exams are pointless. Inaccurate. Not to mention troublesome…"

"Remind me, again," Temari teasingly raised an eyebrow, "How exactly _aren't_ you a carbon copy of your dad?"

"I have your eyes." Her son retorted, quick enough for her to notice he'd thought about this before. "Uncle Kankurou says I'm not as lazy as dad either. And I have your guts."

"Oh?" Temari's hand stilled mid-motion. Looking down at the reluctant but stubborn look on her child's face, she wasn't sure if she was amused or concerned. "You don't think your dad has guts?"

Shikadai gave an awkward shrug. "…Dad said that Grandpa called him a coward."

"That was different." Temari quickly and firmly said. Even though it wasn't, really. Shikamaru was a self-admitted coward. But something about hearing their child call him that struck a wrong chord with her.

"It was a complicated situation." She continued. "He didn't mean it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…general…cowardice…" Temari trailed off. She realised why she felt so uncomfortable with her son's choice of words: Shikadai had yet to learn that even the strongest ninja got scared, that there was nothing wrong with fear. In her son's as of yet limited world view, 'coward' was a word of weakness. That wasn't healthy, especially with his recent nightmares.

She also realised she had no idea how she was supposed to explain to her son that he was thinking about it all wrong. She wanted to just tell him it was fine to be scared, of nightmares or otherwise, but Shikadai was too much like his father. He wouldn't easily accept a conclusion he hadn't come to himelf. That was why Shikamaru was always the one to handle conversations like this…

"Listen," Temari tried again, looking down at her offspring. "I might be more…daring than your dad, but that doesn't mean he isn't brave."

Shikadai tilted his head at her, a thoughtful look on his face. So far, so good.

"When strategizing," Temari continued her explanation, "I try not to think about the worst case scenarios. I just fixate on the here and the now, and what I can do in the next few moves. But for your dad, future consequences are _all_ he can think about. He thinks 10 steps ahead. What could go wrong, who could get hurt, how badly the mission could fail. It's because he carries fear like that and goes through with his plans anyway that he's brave. Braver than me, even."

Her son frowned up at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. "But that's a contradiction. Carrying fear and being brave."

"No, it isn't." Temari patiently tried to find the words. "It's not…bravery isn't the same as not being afraid, Shikadai."

Great. Now her son was looking at her like he was both confused _and_ reconsidering the level of intelligence he had inherited from her side of the gene pool.

Temari sighed. She was just about to tell him to ask his dad in the morning when a tired drawl sounded from the doorway.

"Your mother's right, you know." Shikamaru said, sounding even sleepier than usual, "What she's telling you is that true bravery is being scared of something and doing it anyway."

Both mother and son turned their heads towards the Nara clan head lounging against his son's bedroom door.

"What're you doing up?"

"Can you do something even if you're scared of it?"

They both spoke up at once.

"Well, I'm up because _someone_ left me alone in the bedroom." Shikamaru's somewhat petty comment trailed off into a yawn as he sat down next to Temari. She rolled her eyes at him.

"And as for doing something even if you're scared," He continued, looking to his son who was still cradled in his mother's lap. "Of course you can. Most things in life scare people, y'know. But because they have the will to fight against their fear, they can do those things even if they're scared of them."

Temari glanced down to see how their offspring liked this explanation. Shikadai had stopped clinging onto her dress now, staring at his father with his brow furrowed in thought.

"…But how do you get the will to fight against it?" He asked, and Temari relaxed, relieved he'd finally gotten the point.

"You already have it." Shikamaru told him.

"Huh?"

Her spouse let go of a gentle sigh, rubbing at his eyes. He really was trying his best despite being so tired. "Remember how we took you to the hospital last month? And how Sakura-"

"_Aunt_ Sakura," Temari interjected with a glare at Shikamaru, silently reminding him not to be a bad influence on their son's manners.

"Aunt Sakura," Shikamaru corrected, "How she gave you a flu shot? Remember that?"

"Yeah…" Shikadai frowned, his hand drifting to rub at his arm with the ghost of painful memory. "That hurt."

"It did." Temari sympathetically said, stroking his head. She proudly added, "But you didn't even cry."

"You bore the pain well." Shikamaru agreed, smiling down at his kid. "You were afraid, but you grit your teeth and got through it."

Shikadai blinked, and then grinned widely in realization.

"I was being brave." He declared, obviously very pleased with this new information.

"Yup." Shikamaru said, and leaned over to a press a kiss to his son's forehead. "The same way you're gonna be brave now and go back to sleep."

"I wasn't afraid of _sleeping_." His son protested, already scrambling out of his mother's lap to prove his point. He paused before slipping under the duvet, and corrected himself. "Well, I was. But I can do it now."

Temari smiled softly, and kissed her son's cheek. "See? Braver than me."

.

.

.

"Think he'll be alright?" Shikamaru asked when they were back in bed.

Temari snorted, nudging his shoulder with hers. "Not five minutes ago you were complaining about how long we were taking to say goodnight. What's with the worry now?"

He sighed, wrapping an arm around her. "I've never had trouble with sleeping. You'd know better than me."

"He'll be fine." She reassured him, laying her head on his chest and closing her eyes. "If he isn't, I'll know. Suna mothers have an instinct for these things."

There was a moment of silence.

"…Are _you_ fine?" He lowly asked. "It seems like you don't have night terrors as much as you used to, but I don't know if I always wake up when you-"

"You do." Temari sleepily cut him off. "I'm fine. It's gotten better since I married you, is all."

"…Heh." He smiled to himself, closing his eyes. "That's the first time you've admitted to it."

"Shikamaru?"

"Mm?"

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"Love you too, Temari."


	5. Bad Habits

**Bad Habits**

**Author's Note:** Request inspired thing. Takes place around The Last's timeline, new designs and all.

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><p>"I've missed this." He admits into the quiet.<p>

The sun is only just setting, casting a crimson glow across the office. Temari sits across him, sifting through paperwork, one leg thrown over the other. Under the table, the inside of her foot brushes absentmindedly against his calf. A part of him wonders if she's even aware she's doing it- work can draw her in so completely, sometimes it's like she barely notices the real world.

In this case, he's not sure if he _wants_ her to notice what he's said.

"Huh?" Temari blinks, tearing her gaze away from paper and ink. "What?"

"Nothing." Shikamaru mutters as his shoulders relax in relief, and just the slightest bit disappointment.

"No, you said something." She insists, her forehead creasing.

He tenses again. "It was nothing, just-"

"Wait… did I hear that right?" His words seem to have finally registered in Temari's work addled brain. _"You missed this?"_

"Having hearing problems lately?" He drawls, hoping to distract her. "Well, you _do_ talk pretty loud. Maybe you should get that checked out."

Temari doesn't take the bait. She's abandoned her work entirely, focusing her gaze on him.

"You _missed_ this?" She repeats, a wicked curve to her mouth. "_You_?"

Shikamaru's starting to seriously regret his moment of sentimentality.

"Is that a problem?" He coolly asks, shuffling some papers in an attempt to look busy.

She's outright grinning now. "I thought working on the exams was _troublesome_?"

"I said the _exams_ were troublesome, I never said anything about working togeth-" Shikamaru cuts himself off, jerking his head to look out the open window. Scarlet clouds greet him, and he wonders if his face is burning the same colour.

Across the table, he hears Temari let loose an absolutely delighted chuckle.

"Well, thanks for clearing that up."

Pushy, _sneaky_ woman, he resentfully thinks. He should've kept his mouth shut instead of trying to defend himself. He should've kept his mouth shut _period_.

It's her outfit's fault. That same chest guard design from years ago- it makes him nostalgic. Sentimental.

_Stupid_, he thinks when he dares look back at her. She hasn't taken her eyes off him for a second.

"Anything else you want to add?" Temari sweetly asks, raising her eyebrows.

"Don't get the wrong idea." The words tumble out of his mouth just a tad too curt and quick for his usual careless drawl. She always makes it so hard for him to remain apathetic. "It's just- misery loves company, that's all."

(He always has been a coward.)

"…Is that so?" Temari hums, leaning back in her seat. He feels her foot shift against his calf, prodding him. Like a little kid teasing their crush.

And nothing maddens Shikamaru more than the fact that even though she's being so _aggravating_, he still can't bring himself to move his leg away.

"Yeah, it _is_ so." He snaps, blindly grabbing for his next pile of chuunin candidate profiles. His neck is definitely a little too hot.

She snorts and he scowls, and they fall back into silence.

He's glowering as he signs his name on a permission slip, still annoyed, when she speaks again.

"Oi, Shikamaru."

He looks up before he can even think not to. It's Temari. He's never been good at ignoring her.

She holds his gaze, her smirk slipping. The world seems to go quiet. He suddenly notices a faint dusting of red over her cheeks that may or may not be from the last rays of the setting sun.

"Your company's not half-bad either."

Shikamaru stares.

Temari clears her throat, and looks back down at her paperwork. Her pen scratches away in the silence, as he watches her and she pretends she isn't being watched.

Temari's a coward too, Shikamaru remembers as a lop sided smile starts creeping up his face. She just likes to disguise her retreats as an another angle of attack.

(But that's one of the things he likes about her.)


	6. Observation- Bachelor

**Bachelor**

**Author's Note:** I felt Kiba was hard done by in the epilogue, and wanted an outside view on shikatema in 700, so, voila. Writing's kinda chunky, I apologise.

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><p>At the time, Kiba really doesn't have anything better to do.<p>

He's trudging through the snow on his way home, cold and tired but mostly bored– you can only entertain yourself with catching snowflakes on your tongue for so long, after all. He's just working his jaw to make sure it hasn't unhinged when a pair of spiky hairdos catch his eye.

Well, Shikamaru always has been hard to miss with that signature ponytail of his. It's the old Nara clan pride, letting everyone know exactly who and what they are before they've even been introduced. Shikadai, on the other hand, he doesn't stick out as much yet, still so small (he's what, five now?) that his identity is an afterthought to age.

The kid seems to know it, too, by the way he scowls and takes extra care to copy his father's lazy swagger. It's kinda cute, really, Kiba thinks as he watches Shikamaru 2.0 toddling along after his father, all wrapped up in a puffy jacket and a scarf too big for his sulky face, tiny boots barely leaving footprints in the snow.

He cracks a grin, and it widens even more when he spots the Nara insignia stitched onto Shikadai's sleeves. Kid looks like an envelope that's stayed too long at the post office. Kiba thinks the whole clan clothes thing is kinda _stupid_ really, because who else could the child belong to, with that spiky ponytail?

But then again, Shikamaru's always had a thing about marking his territory. The Nara glances at his son every now and then, a small smile of quiet pride on his face. He adjusts his pace when it looks like Shikadai will lag behind, and jerks out a hand every time it looks like his son could fall.

_Yeah, yeah, _Kiba thinks to himself, _You're proud, I get it. Enough already._

The bitterness of his own thoughts surprises him enough for his steps to come to a halt. _Stupid_, he thinks to himself, _You're happy for him, aren't you? Who thinks something like that about a friend? It's not like your envious or anything. It's not like you want kids. You stayed single because you wanted to, after all._

He repeats the last thought to himself, just to let it sink in. For some reason, Kiba suddenly doesn't find comparing Shikamaru 2.0 to the original all that fun anymore.

He wants to keep walking, go on his way, forget the whole thing ever happened, but still, _still_ something keeps his feet frozen where he stands, watching the father and son as they draw up in front of the Nara home.

Several things keep him there, actually. Stuff like Akamaru's pups, Boruto's grin and Shikadai's little footsteps. Maybe just a little envy. Just a bit. Stupid thing, but it's there, and Kiba just…freezes under it. Can't tear his eyes away from the father and son, two peas in a pod, couldn't blink if he tried.

Until the Nara matriarch walks out the front door to greet her family.

Temari of Suna has always made Kiba come back to his senses, if only because his nose warns him ahead of time that there's a hurricane with human skin nearby. She's started smelling safer since getting together with Shikamaru, but there's still something about Temari that just oozes _power_. It's instinct, to blink and double check that you're really safe in the eye of the storm.

It's almost frightening, Kiba thinks as his eyes slide over to her, how easily she's adapted to Yoshino's role. Gaara's sister walks with her chin high and back straight, and danger pouring off her. It used to feel safer when she lugged that giant fan around, because at least then you'd see what she could attack you with. Now, her weapons are icy politics and ruthless strategies hidden behind an unassuming yukata. She's become a complete Nara, Kiba realizes. Another sign of Shikamaru's influence.

Shikamaru's made her into a complete Nara, but then, he's also made her a spouse, and a mother.

The Inuzuka's reminder of this comes when he sees Temari lean down to pat her son on the head, her lips quirking up. She turns to her husband next, grinning as she nudges him with her shoulder. Kiba thinks she acts more like a war buddy than a wife, but Shikamaru's smile is so soft you'd think he was looking at beauty itself.

And Kiba remembers looking Temari's way once, long before anyone had ever thought to link her with the Nara heir, back when he was young and stupid and the danger crackling around her wasn't so much alarming as it was alluring.

He hadn't even been outright ogling or anything, just a harmless _look_- but Shikamaru had caught him at it, and his classmate had been 15 years old with a glare that could cut through flesh and bone.

Well, you should've _said_ something, Kiba remembers thinking as he stared at his friend from across the room, spine ramrod straight with indignation. Shikamaru was already pretending nothing had happened, his face impassive as always- except Kiba was careful now, and saw the way the Nara's poker face would falter every time Temari turned his way.

You should _say_ something you know, Kiba still thinks, right up until the Nara family turns around to head inside their home. For the first time that evening, the Inuzuka sees their backs.

He snorts out loud.

Shikamaru, Temari and Shikadai- they all have the Nara clan insignia stitched onto the back of their jackets. Handwoven too, all firm and stubborn. Almost as if a very slow and lazy hand had suddenly felt motivated enough to be put to good use.

_It's worse than those cheesy couple t-shirts, like a row of stamps saying 'me, mine and mine'. _Kiba thinks, chuckles gurgling out of him like spring water from a stream_. Pfff, who needs kids if you're gonna end up being a sap like that?_

He's been getting too sentimental, watching Shikamaru look so happy and proud, but he isn't _so_ far gone as to feel envious of those ridiculous family jackets. That's just _embarrassing_.

And easy as that, Kiba finds he can walk again. He doesn't glance back at the Nara's heading inside, doesn't even feel tempted.

_Family's for some people, and the single life's for others_, Kiba thinks. He whistles as he walks.

Well, he tries to whistle, only the odd chuckle or two sometimes bubble out of his chest.

Shikamaru _really_ has a thing for marking his territory.


	7. Good Intentions

Good Intentions

**Author's Note:** This is a rather different take on shikatema than my usual, but hey, it works.

Also, I'm changing the series title from "filling in the gaps" to "moments left out" because I noticed another story with an uncomfortably similar title, so, yeah, letting you know. :D

* * *

><p>The light tingling of the bell above their heads is a familiar thing now, so much that Temari barely registers the sound as they walk in. That should maybe alarm her, but she's too relaxed, lulled into a false sense of security by early morning hours, the café's beckoning warmth and scent of freshly roasted coffee beans.<p>

She notices how Shikamaru holds the door open for her though, slouching as he does, as if he's putting in a tremendous amount of effort and wants her to know it. Temari rolls her eyes and makes a point of brushing past him, so close that the edge of one of her pigtails brushes his cheek. There's a sharp intake of breath behind her, and she feels smugly satisfied that his dreams will have hints of jasmine tonight. Petty vengeance, but still so sweet.

_(but why does she care? they're not together, for all the hidden love bites and quietly stolen kisses._

_that's the only reason she lets the fling continue, because they're not together, and she isn't going to abandon her home for his,_

_she isn't)_

"On the graveyard shift again, huh?" Greeting them from behind the counter is Hitomi –and here, Temari frowns at herself for remembering the barista's name– wearing a wide and honest grin.

Shikamaru nods in greeting beside her, stifling a yawn. It's still too early for him to be using full sentences. Temari should be annoyed, because that means she has to talk instead –she's an ambassador and will _act like it_ even if he doesn't– but her lack of ire is betrayed by the helpless curve of her mouth as she watches him. He looks like a sulky cat.

"I'll get your usual morning wake-up call ready then." Hitomi says, and she's gone before the Suna ambassador can even open her mouth, bustling off to the back to get the coffee beans.

Temari blinks, unsure if she's more unsettled because she didn't have to speak, or because she was too busy looking at Shikamaru to notice she didn't have to until it was too late.

_(and a voice inside whispers: this is how it begins, not giving into his needy hands or letting him into your bed, but it's these little things that will lure you away from home)_

Next to her, Shikamaru yawns again, his hands digging deep into his pockets. His sleepy eyes look around for the closest, comfiest chair and he sacrifices a precious four steps to reach a maroon loveseat. He collapses into it with a groan like an old man, and Temari's traitorous mouth threatens to smile again. To make up for it, she crosses her arms when she sits across him.

There's a subject she's been meaning to breach, and now is the perfect opportunity _(she worries she'll keep letting him get away with it otherwise)._

"So," She lets just a little accusation slip into her tone, "We have a 'usual' now."

She only realises the 'we' is a mistake a second after the word leaves her mouth, and she sees a glint of satisfaction light up his half-lidded eyes.

_(and it stings, because here it is, proof that he's playing her again when she so desperately needs to be in control)_

"That's what happens when you always order the same coffee." He easily tells her. The deflection wouldn't be all that significant if this wasn't the first sentence he'd bothered to speak all morning. Shikamaru always does give himself away with his actions more than his words.

Temari briefly wonders if she's the only one to see through him like this, if everyone else is really fooled by the apathetic mask he puts on. They must be, otherwise he'd try a different tactic of deception when talking to her.

Unless he wants her to see through him.

That thought disconcerts her enough for her next words to come out sharper than she'd like:

"I always order the same coffee because _you_ always bring me here. This is the sixth time."

_(it's ridiculous that she still has someone guiding her around to begin with, showing her where to eat and shop, and she wonders if Kakashi is in on this.)_

"You kept count." This time, Shikamaru's so pleasantly surprised his mouth looks like it might twitch into a genuine smile without any hidden intentions.

Heat slaps itself across her cheeks, but she keeps her gaze steady. He always does this, tries to divert attention from what's actually important.

"Don't change the subject." She says, trying to cling to her irritation as armour against the other things he makes her feel. "I can _see_ what you're doing here."

"Oh?" He baits her with a drawl that seems even lazier than usual. This is always his fall-back plan: sarcasm, taunting, making things not as serious as she tries to make them.

"You're trying to manipulate me." She sharply accuses, voice brittle from the perceived breach of trust. He's sneaking around her –_again_- when all she's ever asked of him is honesty.

_(whatever happened to no strings attached?)_

"Into doing what?" He deadpans. "Drinking good coffee?"

"You're using your position as my guide to aid your own agenda. You take me to the same places, over and over, so it becomes a routine for me." Her voice sharpens, "You're trying to get me to warm up to Konoha, taking me to shops where people recognise me on sight and know me by name and greet me with smiles…"

"Sorry if the friendliness of our locals has offended you." He dryly says, raising an eyebrow to rub in how ridiculous her complaint sounds.

"That is _not_ what I mean and you know it." She glares at him. "Instead of trying to trick me like this, you could try to openly talk about it you know. If you seriously want me to think about staying."

_('with you' goes unsaid into the silence, because it's not him she needs convincing about so much as his village)_

"You're the one who's saying that, not me." He calmly points out, but the words are rendered invalid by the devastating smirk slowly creeping up his face. Because for all her protests, he knows he's won just a bit if the thought pesters her enough to be voiced.

His relaxed air coupled with that smirk she usually lo- likes, it's enough to push her off the edge of unease and into anger, sharp and sudden on her tongue.

"I'm not going to change my mind because of a few tricks and friendly faces." She grits out, just because she can, because she knows it'll hurt him, because she's angry that she's always the honest one while he dodges every frank conversation she tries to have.

They'd agreed on _no strings._

His smirk falters, just a little. "I know you're not," he says, quieter now. "I know that."

"Then_ act like it_." She harshly says, "I'm not the enemy, Shikamaru. I'm not…someone to be _tricked_."

"I'm not tricking…" He pauses with habitual denial in his mouth, then sighs. His eyes find hers and pin them, a moment of sincerity amidst all his tricks. "No matter what I do, I know it's your choice. It's always been your choice."

Her crossed arms tighten, and then loosen. She allows herself to let down her guard again. Too easy to forgive, maybe, but this is Shikamaru. "As long as you know."

"I know." He quietly tells her. And then the smirk returns. "But you can't blame me for trying to plead my case, can you?"

She sighs, though her irritation is mostly for show at this point.

"No. I guess not."

As long as he understands the stakes are still on her terms, then she's not all that against playing this game of his.

_(and maybe there's a part of her that secretly wants him to change her mind)_

"One black coffee with no sugar, and a vanilla caramel latte," Hitomi says as she puts down their cups.

"Thank you, Hitomi-san," Temari says, her tone as formal as an ambassador's should be.

_(and a voice whispers: fighting a losing battle, you were bound to the village the minute you let the man lay hands on you, don't deny it)_

"You're very welcome." The barista's grin only widens before she moves away. For a moment, Temari wonders if the Nara has the whole of Konoha in on his scheming. It'd certainly make sense.

"So very polite." Shikamaru murmurs teasingly under his breath.

Temari rolls her eyes at him and cups her palms around the coffee mug instead, feeling the warmth creep into her fingers with a sigh.

She's never going to get used to how friendly Konoha is. In Suna, they'd expect you to come collect your coffee yourse-

Temari cuts off her train of thought with a hiss, annoyed to be comparing them again, and Shikamaru smiles at her across the table like he knows what she's thinking.

_(it's that smile of his that's the real problem, so deeply delighted that she has to remind herself she's not going to stay)_

She's starting to wonder if she's the real liar here.


End file.
